Things That Go Bump in the Night
by 123serendipitee
Summary: Nick and Winston could tell you what they've been hearing at night. But then they'd have to kill you. AND! HOW NICK MET JULIA!
1. Chapter 1

_**AUTHOR'S** **NOTE:**_  
_**Ok, the story title and summary are a bit tongue in cheek. Actually, maybe this whole story is tongue in cheek. Cuz you know how you'll be watching your favorite series, and they've got this whole storyline playing out, and you're all into it...and then all of a sudden, they'll air some seemingly random episode that doesn't seem to have anything to do with the arc that you're all jazzed about and invested in?! All because they seem to think it's time for a little comic relief, or something?!**_

_**To quote Jess, "Well, uh...my story's kind of like that".**_

_**As my little handful of loyal followers ;o) know, I've been writing my way through season one, sticking with show canon, and just trying to elaborate a little on the psychology and other juicy stuff going on behind the scenes we see.**_

_**Nick and Jess are perfect for one another, we all agree here. ;o) But as Liz M. herself has said, they just aren't perfect for one another YET. They both have to do some growing and changing first. And that means other boyfriends and girlfriends coming and going, to help them get to that point.**_

_**So yeah. There's not a lot of Nick/Jess yummy-goodness in this story. In fact, this comes a whole lot closer to being a Nick/JULIA story, so if you don't think your sensitive little heart can take that, turn back now. :op**_

_**But if you don't mind a few pages of fun interaction between the guy roommates...and if, like me, you've always wondered how Nick and Julia met...read on. ;o)**_

_**I PROMISE my next story will be back to all kinds of sweet angsty goodness. ;o)**_

_**But in the meantime, I present you with...THE COMIC RELIEF EPISODE:**_

* * *

Nick and Winston exchanged looks over their cereal bowls. Exhausted, shell-shocked, slightly-tinged-with-horror looks. Each willing the other to speak of it first.

Winston was the first to cave.

"I'd hoped it wouldn't come to this..." he began, his voice low and hoarse with lack of sleep, and more than a little desperate, "But I can't live this way anymore, man..."

"I know man, but what can we do?! We can't..." Nick looked around quickly, making sure no one else was around, before he whispered, "We can't _say _anything about it!"

"You can't?! Because I think I _can_, man! I think I _have _to!"

"Winston, NO! She has no idea...do you know how embarrassed she'll be?!"

"You don't know what I'm going through, man!" Winston near-sobbed, "You're gone half the night, working!" He lowered his voice to hiss vehemently, "You aren't there for the beginning, when they're still fresh and full of energy!"

Nick pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut against the vivid image that put in his mind. "I...I can't...I'm sorry, I can't talk about this. This was a mistake. Let's just go back to never mentioning this. Please. I beg you."

"No way man!" Now that Winston had finally spoken up, he was relentless. "I've got PTSD from some of those sounds! I'll be minding my own business, just walking down the street, and the squeal of someone's tires will make me break out in a cold sweat. A cat _meowed _at me the other day, and my brain immediately flashed on an image of Jess lapping up..."

"For the love of God, Winston,_ STOP_!"

_**"...I'll never be able to watch another black and white movie again, man!"**_

Winston was near his breaking point, but Nick knew he could trump him. "Oh yeah?! You think you've got it bad?! Well how about this, buddy...I _SAW_them!"

"What?!"

"I fell asleep on the couch one night, and they didn't see me when they came in. I _saw_ the kitty cat...in_ action_!"

"Dear God no." Winston was aghast with the appropriate horror.

"I watched them tear each others' clothes off. I saw the guy_ without his shirt_."

"I'm so sorry man," Winston commiserated, shaking his head slowly, "I didn't know." His voice trailed off, "I didn't know..."

"It's ok...just...stop feeling sorry for yourself. You're not the only one hurting, here," Nick said with an uncomfortable shrug of his shoulders, as if trying to physically shake off the memory of the things he'd seen.

They sat in mutual sympathy for a few minutes, before Winston asserted, "But just to be clear...we're still never speaking about any of this to Schmidt, right?!"

Nick shuddered, thinking about how salaciously interested their clueless roommate on the other end of the loft would be in hearing DETAILED descriptions of the bizarre array of sex noises that had been emanating from Jess's room each night.

"GAWD no."


	2. Chapter 2

But Winston was right. Something had to happen. If Nick had thought he was sexually frustrated before, at least he had the company of at least three of his four roommates. One of whom had been seeing some heavy rotation in his slightly conflicted fantasy world of late. And now even she was enjoying what was apparently a very adventuresome and mutually satisfying love life, these days.

_Genslinger._ The guy had proven to be nice enough, actually, but Nick still tended to think of him through gritted teeth. More than anything because he still just couldn't figure out how that skinny bastard had gotten so lucky. Damn Jess. Right when he about had himself convinced that he _himself _was exactly what she needed and was waiting for, she had to ruin it by finally getting up the nerve to jump in the sack with some geeky music teacher who walked like a marionette and had a wobbly Adam's apple.

And Nick told himself that the sharp pain in his chest every time he thought about them together was merely due to a bruised ego, and nothing more.

Anyway, obsessing about Jess had just been the easy, lazy way to get out of "putting himself out there" again, he lectured himself. He and Caroline had been broken up...geez, HOW many months, now? Over half a year. And it was time for him to do exactly what Jess herself had done...take a look around, survey the field, select a likely candidate and just ask someone out, already. Sheesh.

And just like that, like a self-fulfilling prophecy, suddenly there _was _a girl who caught his eye.

She'd come to the bar one night with a few business associates, and at first he hadn't taken much notice. They seemed to be having a meeting of sorts, and if anything she came off a tad demanding, and potentially bitchy.

But by the time her associates left she'd had a few drinks, and she came and sat at the bar and nursed another one, and before he knew it, it was almost like she was flirting with him.

Not an unusual occurrence. Lots of ladies seemed to enjoy honing their seduction skills on the bartenders. Some guys took advantage of that. But Nick never could seem to take it seriously, and rarely paid it much attention, unless it really got aggressive.

So he was surprised when this time he kinda sorta found himself flirting back. And he realized that this ballsy bitch was actually pretty cute and funny.

She left before getting truly drunk, and he enjoyed the lingering high of the unexpected ego boost for the rest of the evening.

And then forgot all about her.

Until she showed up again the next night.

Alone.

She sat at the bar for several hours, slowly sipping a drink or two, and ostensibly doing paperwork. Except that she always had time to stop and share a few witty bon mots with him when he paused near her to wipe down the bar.

And he found that her end of the bar needed a lot of cleaning, that night.

At the other end, he was kept busy by a group of cougars who were out celebrating the unnamed "significant birthday" of one of their number. They'd been drinking before they ever even showed up, and they weren't slowing down now. They were loud, and they were obnoxious, but they of course thought that they were being "hot" and fascinating and irresistible.

And it quickly escalated into one of those "so aggressive he couldn't ignore it" type situations.

He handled them, though, with the unruffled aplomb of an experienced bartender, and only the occasional eyebrows raised at the quiet girl at the other end of the bar betrayed the fact that he was wishing mightily that the whole group would just hitch up their necklines, and tug down their hemlines, and leave.

And thank goodness, it finally looked like they were going to...except that they were quite insistent on obtaining his number for the birthday girl before doing so.

"Sure," Nick said readily, "Have you got a napkin or something?" He eagerly wrote down his name and number, and flirtatiously eyed the lucky lady as he further instructed, "I work weird hours and sleep weird hours, so I wrote down the best times to reach me, too." And he slid the napkin across the bar with his best wink and smile.

The gaggle of aging beauty queens teetered out the door on their high heels and fading hopes, and he returned again to the other end of the bar.

"You need to quit making such a mess," he rebuked Cute Girl, "I swear this is the tenth time I've had to clean up around you tonight."

She smiled knowingly and cut straight to the chase, "That wasn't your real number, was it?"

Nick shrugged. "Jeff Goggins back in Chicago was a real asshole to me all through high school. He deserves a 3:00 am wake up call now and then."

And he was leaning on the bar, and they were smiling at each other, and she cocked her head to the side when she asked deliberately, never breaking eye contact, "And if I asked for your number, would I find myself talking to an irate Jeff Goggins, as well?"

Nick just smiled. A slow smile that was almost one of self-rediscovery. And he held out his hand and said, "Hi...I'm Nick."

"Hi Nick," she answered, her handshake soft and firm all at once, "I'm Julia."


	3. Chapter 3

When Nick got home that night Winston was still up, staring blankly at some hair-removal infomercial in which serene women of ethnic decent were smilingly removing all traces of their mustaches.

"Just FYI," Nick offered, "Those girls have got to be hosed on some kind of heavy narcotics. Caroline used that stuff on my chest one time, and I cried like a little baby girl for three straight hours afterwards."

He started back towards his bedroom, only to be stopped by Winston's low, "Ooooh, I wouldn't if I were you."

"What?! Are you serious?! How many nights can they keep this up?!"

"I have to tell you," Winston replied, "I have a lot of respect for Genslinger, now. Grant you, he's probably just making up for thirty years of frustrated virginity, but the guy's got some kind of stamina."

Nick stuck his head down the hallway for a quick listen, and made a disgusted face at what he heard. "You think they have any idea what they're doing in there? I mean...really?"

"Oh, absolutely not," answered Winston. "But they sure are having a lot of fun figuring it out."

Nick sighed, and joined him on the couch. For a few seconds he considered telling his best friend about the cool chick he'd met at work, but he figured he'd just be jinxing himself. So instead he said, "Okay, well I really need some sleep tonight. I'm working a double tomorrow, and Julio's already been on my case." _ For spending too much time focusing on one certain customer, tonight.  
_  
"I think I'm just gonna sleep on the couch," Winston sighed. "I have a couple of interviews tomorrow, and I'd like to show up looking as UNhaunted as possible."

They sat in silence for a few seconds, while Nick sniffed in disdain at the claim of painlessness purported on the TV. And then he had a sudden thought. "Hey...is Schmidt home tonight?"

"Nope. He claimed to have a date with twins, and told me not to expect him until I saw him."

"Cuz you knoooow..." Nick offered slowly, "his room IS out of hearing range..."

"_What?"_

"I mean...if he's not using his bed..."

"Eeeew, are you being serious right now?!"

"Come on Winston, we've slept in the same bed plenty of times!"

"Yeah, well not since the seventh grade, when you still hadn't gone through puberty yet, and you suddenly got all weird about your body! Come to think of it...you never really came out of that stage, did you?"

"HAHA. I'm being serious. Do you really feel up to another night of, 'I have a DEADLINE to meet, so you need to pick up the pace, you hear me, son?'"

Winston's shuddered at Nick's eerily accurate imitation of Jess's ole-timey-newpaper-reporter voice. He clicked off the TV and took a determined breath. "Let's do this."


	4. Chapter 4

Nick slept like the dead, and began to wake only when the sun demanded it. But not before snuggling his butt into the warmth of the person spooning him from behind, and trying to remain in the land of oblivion as long as possible.

That peaceful bliss, however, was shattered by a shocked scream, and he and Winston sat straight up in bed with their own startled yells. They looked around fuzzily at the unfamiliar surroundings before looking back at one another, and cursing in tandem. Winston crab-walked backwards and buried himself in the pillows at the top of the bed, while Nick piled every blanket he could find into a wall between them.

All while Schmidt stood, mouth agape in horror, in the doorway.

"This isn't what it looks like!" Nick held his hand out to assure him.

"What the...why would you...?" Schmidt squeaked in his high, "on the verge of crying" voice.

"Seriously dude," Winston begged, "I know I joke around with that Theodore K. Mullins stuff, but believe me, this is NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE."

"I..." Schmidt had to stop to dry heave before he could continue, "I could not care less what you and Nick have going on when the world isn't watching. The fact that you've seen his penis and I haven't should have been my first clue. But..._MY BED_?!" Schmidt stopped to stifle another wretch, before whining weakly, "Why are you sleeping in my bed? Oh God...Nick..._the man hair_! And Winston!" -more gagging- "How long has it been since you've had a pedicure?! I'm...I'm going to have to burn those pillows now, and I just bought them...those are eiderdown...ST. GENEVE!"

"SCHMIDT, relax, don't be such a girl! I'll wash your damn sheets and everything will be ok!" Nick yelled.

But Schmidt was too busy mourning sadly, "360 thread count, 100% Egyptian Cotton..."

Nick gave up and reached for his pants, but as he pulled them up a piece of paper fell out of the pocket. He picked it up, and rubbed his thumb across it thoughtfully. Julia. Yes, he thought, he'd be calling this number soon.

With any luck they'd hit it off, and he could start spending the nights over at her house.

He really needed the sleep.


End file.
